


Institutionally In Love

by prettypetals



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: ABO roleplay, Anal Sex, Biting, Bondage, Bottom Peter Parker, Dubious Consent, Fluff, Hair Pulling, In the Beginning, M/M, Morally Dubious!Peter Parker, Nonconsentual Chocking, Rape Play gone a little to realistic, Really bottom Peter Parker, Rimming, Romance, Skull Fucking, Spanking, Stalking, Top Wade Wilson, gagging, in a weird twisted sort of way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 07:03:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11800908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettypetals/pseuds/prettypetals
Summary: On an assignment to Stark Tower's Museum for Super Heroes, Peter Parker stumbles upon a locked up prisoner in the restricted section of the building where he meets and catches the attention of Deadpool.





	Institutionally In Love

"Now if you'll turn this way, you'll find that Stark Industries have implemented a lot of their in work technology to ensure that the prisoners have a slim chance to escape. To your right, we have just a small piece of metal from the shield that our very own Captain America uses to fight various villains on the battle field..."

 

Peter groaned internally as he continued to follow the tour guide around the building. He rolled his eyes as he noticed a fellow photographer take a "candid" shot of the small piece of vibranium on the clear glass display case. Really, he supposed, if he wasn't secretly Spider-Man and an unofficial Avenger then he would probably be 'Oo-ing and Ah-ing' along with the rest of the crowd.

 

The woman, or Elaine as her chest tag read, motioned for the group to follow her along to another hall which as he neared, Peter felt himself wanting to gag from the sheer amount of Tony Starkness filtering the room.  Really, there was no humility when it came to the man. Besides Cap's display, which to him was well deserved and honorary- I, mean, the guy punched Hitler in the face! Who does that?- Tony's was the biggest out of the cast.

 

"Man doesn't need the suit," A pretty dark skinned woman sighed to the woman beside her who nodded eagerly eyeing the life sized statue. "He can save me any day."

Peter took a few pictures of the very first Iron Man suit that he decided would at least gain him a few bucks from The Bugle but the moment he lifted his camera, he heard and saw the shutters and flashes of several other (definitely more expensive) cameras do the same.

A burly man with a scruffy blonde beard nudged him on his side as he pushed his way past Peter to get a better angle. "Would ya step outta the way for a sec, kid?" He rasped not unkindly. "You can take your pics for your school newspaper some other time, but the better lot of us gotta make a living for this shit. Thanks."

Peter gritted his teeth and wandered off to a stand that had a screen of the suit in action, zipping and zagging around in the air. 

That was the annoying thing about his Peter personal that he hated the most. He was a coward and a pushover. And he looked the part. 

Barely 5'7ft with his unruly brown hair, light brown eyes that his aunt May claimed reminded her of a fawn-all big, wide and doey- and a mal-nutritoned looking body, Peter was a target through out his highschool years for bullies and any other kids who were bigger and faster than him.

Of course when he got his Spider powers that all changed. He'd gained an ample amount of muscles but the strewny kind that was more hidden when he wore loose clothes, he was still skinny, but now he had the proportional strength of a spider...which was ALOT. And the best part was his amazing ability to stick to nearly all surfaces and bend in the most impossible ways that even a pro gymnast would kill for. 

But as his Uncle Ben had once said so many years ago before he died: "With great power comes great responsibility." So because of that very powerful quote, Peter remained hidden. He stayed a crime fighting vigilante in the night and puny Parker in the day.

After a couple of moments checking out the Iron Man hall, Elaine blowed her whistle as her signal to regather the rest of the tour group. Peter moved forward to the start of the line, his camera hanging loosely around his neck.

"Now I'm sure that a lot of you have questions about Mr. Stark and to answer the majority of them right now, I'm going to inform you of two things," She spoke loudly.

Her green eyes scanned the entree of people in the room, her eyes lingering on the few women who seemed to huddle together near the life sized statue taking selfies to what was sure to go rampant on twitter soon.

"One, no. Mr. Stark will not be making a guest appearance and two, please refrain from leaning too heavily on the displays. They are real and heavily secured so if any type of infliction where to happen to any of the items, you may be electrocuted."

That got everyone's attention quickly and then the questions started coming in rapidly.

With Elaine distracted, Peter hurridly slipped away from the crowd and snuck through the roomed labeled RESTRICTED PERSONEL ONLY. He'd noticed the room at the beginning of the tour and if Peter was anything, it was curious.

 

J. Jonah. Jameson had given Peter the task or assignment of taking new and exclusive shots of the newly established Stark Tower's Mental Institution for the Criminally Insane and Superpowered buliding, but let's face it, he had competition. Considering that if he went back to The Bugle with pictures that every other photographer and news reporter already has-with greater film quality!- he'd be looked over once again and still be known as the weirdo who takes 'exclusive pictures' of Spiderman.

 

And he desperately needed the money that Jameson was offering this time around. 

 

A whole $500! 

 

That was half of a thousand dollars. He could give three hundred to his Aunt May, and use the rest to pay off his two week due rent! He was pretty sure that his landlord's daughter had a crush on him otherwise Peter was almost sure he'd find his stuff thrown out and evicted weeks ago.

 

After Peter glanced back behind himself and saw no one looking for him, he lifted his camera, ready to capture anything that resembled something news worthy. So far beyond the door, there was nothing more than a narrow hallway with no windows. Just the mind numbing sterlized scent and white walls.

 

As Peter desecended further down the corridor, he was met with a steel blank door that took over most of the wall. A small keypad was attached to the side where the door handle was supposed to be. What the hell was so important that it warranted security like this?

 

Though, somethings were starting to click in Peter's mind. Like the naming of the museum: "Stark Tower's Mental Institution for the Criminally Insane and Super-powered"...maybe THIS was the institutional part. THIS was possibly where the Avengers kept a few of their prisoners for rehabilitation! THIS was his big break.

 

As Peter contemplated what this could mean for him, he went to work on the Stark device.

 

It wasn't like he was breaking any avenging rules by hacking into the security system. He wasn't exactly an Avenger to begin with. Not to mention no one, besides Jarvis perhaps, knew his secret identity. Peter Parker was invisible to everyone.

 

BEEP! BEEEP! BEEEEP!

 

"Password Override. Password Override." The computer's voice screeched before subsiding quietly as the steel door slowly slid open.

With a deep breath, Peter stepped over the threshold.

Suddenly, his spider sense instantly went haywire, the usual tingly feeling he sometimes got when danger was near screamed its way over his skin, leaving invisible marks that almost made Peter run out of the place without a thought.

The first thing he heard were various intakes of sounds. Growls, odd muttering, and a few hisses that sounded snake-like. 

As he strode forward at the thought of hopefully getting a promotion from freelance photographer to a more permanent position, he relaxed a bit at what he saw.

The new room was a bit like the barren white hall, but wider. Each wall, the right and the left, were fully equipped with circular metal cells that had a clear glass lense over it where prison bars usually where meant to be. It looked as if it was created for viewing and as well for keeping whatever was inside, out. 

Every second or so the glass would shimmer with a strange bluish light that Peter suspected was a type of highly advance electro magnetic shock system determined to either raise the alarm for any escapees or to hold the criminals at bay.

Peter reached for his neglected camera, pointing it at the an angle that captured the row of cells at a side. 

 

Click.

 

Click.

 

Click.

 

He hadn't moved from his spot still a feet away from the threshold, afraid to actually see what was inside the cells. It took a moment for Peter to realize that

1.) He was Spider-Man, and

2.) He had super powers, one of them which made it possible to lift a truck without breaking a sweat.

 

//Puny Parker strikes again// Flash's voice echoed in his ears. Peter cringed.

 

Right, he thought with a foot forward nervously, You are Spider-man. Spiderman has no fears. I am Spiderman.

 

At the first cell, Peter lightly tapped on the metal. When no thing made itself present, he tapped harder against railing but to no avail. He peered inside with his camera poised for even the slightest hint of something. ANYTHING. 

 

"Hello?" He called out, hesitant. No one seemed to be here at the moment which struck Peter as odd. But then again, the security lock wasn't something easy to hack into...

 

"Uh, anyone home?" He tried again. 

 

No answer.

 

So he tried the next one. 

 

And the next one. 

 

And the next one.

 

And the next one.

 

The further down Peter went, the more he began to doubt that there was anything interesting about this place. Maybe J. Jameson might find the idea of a secret jail cell with NO PRISONERS worth a couple of conspiracy theories. 

 

As he sifted through the few pictures he knew the other reporters outside didn't have, Peter decided it would have to be enough. 

 

"What a waste of my time..." He muttered aloud to himself.

"I'd take that as an insult, but who's gonna care?" A rugged voice replied back.

Peter jumped up in surprise, his heart going nearly stock still at the sudden intrusion before it picked up an unhealthy speed. 

"W..who's there?" Peter glanced around only to find no one.

A few heartbeats went by, then "Just your friendly neighborhood, bad guy. And who, pray tell, are YOU?" There was a strange playfullness in the man's tone. "Haven't got any visitors since...who knows? But I'm willing to bet you didn't just stumble upon this place all willy nilly."

 

Peter found himself rolling his eyes in ridicule. "No, I meant, where are you?" He said.

 

Another beat of silence. "You afraid of monsters, kid?" The man asked quietly.

 

Peter shook his head, but thought better once he figured that whoever was speaking couldn't obviously see him. "Not in the traditional sense, I guess."

"Then you and I are going to get along just fine,"

"What happened to the others in here?" He might as well get some answers while he was in here and hopefully a good enough story. 

"I made `em all go crazy, so the white coats transferred the rest of them to some super top secret facility in butt fuck nowhere."

"...You made them all go crazy?" Peter smiled a little. "What is that-your super power?"

A chuckle. "Yellow thinks so. White not so much, but there's a reason why people call me The Merc with A Mouth. And it ain't because of my amazing fellatio skills."

Peter felt heat rush to his cheeks. 

 

//Peter Peter Virgin Peter// A flashback of his time in highschool winked through his mind at the crude words.

 

But something else the man said held Peter short. "Merc...as in Mercenary?"

"Yea, as in I kill people for hire. Used to just kill anyone, but nowadays, I just kill the really, really bad ones."

His voice dropped down an octave and that made Peter feel a chill up his back and...something else he couldn't put a finger on.

"Lemme tell you something, kid, folks like the Avengers and shit think I'm a menace to society, but in reality I'm the only thing that's really getting the real monsters off the streets. All those child rapists, traffickers, wife beaters, corrupt politicians? I'm who you call when you want them gone. I'm like a super hero of sexily odd proportions."

More like an anti-hero/psychopath, Peter thought.

His spider sense had lowered down a notch and was now more of a faint buzzing in the back of his head. Whoever this man was, he was bad, bad news if his spider sense was any indicator to when he first came into the room.

"So, is that why you're locked in here, Mr...?" He prompted.

"Pool. Deadpool." The man replied in a classical Elvis Presely imitation. Peter filed the name away for later.

"What's your name, handsome?"

"Peter. Uh, no last name." His name wasn't anything special, especially in a big city like Queens.

"Oooh, I knew a Peter, ya know." 

"Oh yea?" Typical.

"Yea, but I killed him after he took FOREVER delivering my chimichangas. Who the FUCK takes a whole 3 hours to deliver chimichangas to one abandoned building?"

Peter bit his lip, deciding that the man really was insane after all.

"The kind that probably had to take a long time actually looking for a place that probably didn't have an address on it?" Peter muttered sarcastically and was glad not for the first time in his life to have super powers for when things went side ways.

There was a pause. "...so I shouldn't have killed the Peter?" The mercenary asked in a small voice.

Peter shook his head slowly as a reflex. "Uhm, yes. Killing random civilians is probably not a good thing, Mr. Deadpool. But you can't do anything about that now, so its ok."

"Well, NOW you tell me!" Deadpool exclaimed. A THUD sound indicated he'd hit something hard.

Peter jumped slightly at the sound. "Right...well, I have to get going and-"

"No!" Deadpool cried out. "For the love of all Mexican food and Bea Arthur do not leave me alone! It's been literally a snooze fest in here, cuz ever since Tin Man decided to lock me up in here and take away all the other lunatics, I've only had Yellow and White to keep me company. And trust me, those two are NOT fun type material."

 

Peter frowned, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There was that whole Yellow and White persons Deadpool had mentioned before. "Are they some of the...orderlies-" For lack of better word, if any since this was some kind of mental facility- "that work here?"

 

A loud guffaw was echoed out through the cells further down. "You" Deadpool snickered maniacally. "think that YELLOW AND WHITE are orderlies? Oooh boy! Now that's a joke if I haven't heard any before." He chuckled some more. "Yellow and white," Deadpool clarified slowly. "are two-and you might wanna get ready to run from the crazy stuff I'm gonna spout right now-  of the most fucked up voices in my head that I got as a littel gift from my little vacay at some British jerk named WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK Francis No Last Name." A short pause. "I think he goes by the name Ajax? Its dumb. Kinda like a Kleenex brand or something. Hey, you still there, kid?"

 

Peter wetted his lips. His spider sense had risen dangerously high at the name Francis or Ajax. Whoever he was, Deadpool really didn't like him. 

 

Okay.

 

Deadpool was insane. Completely insane. Because hearing voices in your head was one thing, but referring to them as living entities was another.

"Yeah, but I have to go. Like right now-" Peter made his retreat purposely loud as he scuffled back several steps. The time on his watch indicated that he had thirty minutes short of an hour before the tour ended and if Elaine hadn't already called security for him, she would very soon.

"Fuck!" He heard the mercenary cuss in a whisper and the oddest thing happened...

"Nice going, Whitey, we just scared the poor kid away!" A pause. "Well fuck you too! It's not like I've got anyone else to talk to in here when- YOU FUCKER! If I had a gun right now I'd blow your damn heads off...Well at least then I wouldn't have to listen to you two bitch at me for- Wait! Seriously? He's still here?"

Deadpool was talking to himself. Like full on conversations that Peter was now positive were far from good conscious. It was a bit sad to hear it, really. 

Peter really didn't want to talk to the mad man any longer but it felt wrong to just leave him like that. He remembered the numerous amount of times kids used to stare at him funny or ignore him when he rambled on about some science topic and it hurt more than the punches Flash threw his way. And as Spider-Man he'd felt the most freest he'd ever felt. Strong and invulnerable. People looked up to him. 

Peter Parker may not have any special powers or any sort of physical appeal, but he could at least be a friend to someone. Even if that someone was an insane criminal that he had yet to see face to face.

Peter took a big breath of air and released it. "Uh, yea. I'm still here, Deadpool." He said before a loud squeal echoed off the walls, making Peter wince painfully.

Apparently besides having the ability to 'make people go crazy', maybe Deadpool could also break a man's ear drums with his high pitched squeals.

"Omigosh, baby boy, you've just made me the happiest girl alive!" He sang.

"You're welcome...?" Peter glanced down at his watch again.

 

26 minutes to go.

 

"But I honestly can't stay too long. The group I came here with is kinda on a timed schedule and...where ARE you?"

"Aww," Deadpool exclaimed in mock. "Does my little Petey Pie want to SEE lil ole ME?"

"You know," Peter managed a sly smile though he knew the other man couldn't see it. "I could just leave and never come back here...I just thought that if we could at the very most see each other, I'd have a reason to visit."

A moment passed in silence. "Y...You'd come visit again?" The mercenary asked in disbelief. "Like for realz?"

"Um, well yea. Of course. I mean as long as you don't try to kill me or anything then sure." Peter shrugged to himself as he mumbled the last words pathetically. "It's not like I have much friends in my life to spend time with..."

"In that case, walk on till you see the very last cell and then stop right in front of it. Ya can't miss it!"

Peter gave a verbal note of affirmation before moving his legs in the direction that led to the the lengthier hall of cells. Just as Deadpool said, Peter had made it to the very last prison cubicle, taking care to walk a little closer to the transparent wall, though he kept it at a polite distance. So far his spidey sense wasn't tingeling.

A movement in the shadows made Peter squirm where he stood nervously. "Deadpool? You there?"

No reply, but he very nearly resisted the urge to take a safe distance away from the glass wall when suddenly a hulking mass of 6'4 body of muscles slowly walked its way to the wall, just a few feet between them. 

A man, because it was impossible for him to be anything else but a man, clad in a red and red body suit with an adorned on mask which bore two peculiar white eye patches. It resembled his Spider-Man costume a lot.

In a roundabout way.

Peter took a gulp as he tilted his head up slightly to look at the masked man. "Hey." He said meekly, he raised his hands up and waved weakly at the man, now suddenly feeling intimidated by his stature.

"Oh baby boy," Deadpool crooned almost hypnotically at him, still staring at his profile. "You're perfect."

Peter shivered at his words.

 

He was so,

 

so

 

screwed.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is a spur of the moment think that I couldn't resist! Mind the tags, people. They are important. {Ideas are appreciated♡}


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